


In the Dark

by a_windsor



Series: Thing!verse [16]
Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 17:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_windsor/pseuds/a_windsor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When would they get enough sleep to have a rational conversation again?" Prequel to Rollercoaster. June 2019</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Dark

_In the Dark –_ **June 2019**

 

Arizona pushes through the door from the garage into the kitchen, feeling every hour of the seventeen-hour shift she just inadvertently worked. It’s the middle of the night, approaching 3:00 AM. actually, so she might as well just stay awake, because Caroline will be awake and hungry and screaming any minute now. She actively considered just crashing in an on-call room to avoiding the wailing four-month-old and the wife who isn’t actually speaking to her at this very moment, but she decided it would only make it worse. 

But really, why was this emergency surgery at the end of her shift any different than the hundreds if not thousands she’s had before? Why was this the one that got her in the doghouse? When would they get enough sleep to have a rational conversation again?

Nevertheless, the thought of waking up, no matter how exhausted, without Callie (speaking to her or not) nearby and her kids to hug and kiss just seemed too terribly depressing. She’d managed to get lunch and snuggles with Lena and Asa (Caroline was napping), and that was the only thing that got her through the day.

She stumbles to the kitchen, dropping her bag, and immediately makes her way to the fridge, relieved that Callie seems to have pumped enough for Miss Caroline to get her 3:00 AM pre-hour-long-scream-fest feeding in. Arizona grabs a bottle and flips the water on as high as it will go, letting the bottle sit under it and warm up until its the perfect temperature. It won’t be as wonderful as Mami’s boobs, but Momma would be the first to tell her there’s little that is. 

The bottle is sufficiently warm, and she glances at the clock. 3:02 AM. As if on cue, Caroline starts wailing from the master bedroom, where she still sleeps in her bassinet. Lena and Asa moved to their own nurseries by twelve and fourteen weeks, but Caroline just passed seventeen and Callie balks at any mention of moving her.

Maybe she has a point, given Caroline’s clockwork schedule, but maybe their daughter would also learn to self-soothe a little more if her moms weren’t so readily available. And Arizona would climb those stairs more often if it meant the slim chance of real, uninterrupted alone time with Calliope.

Arizona quickly slips into the bedroom where Callie is beginning to stir and Caroline is doing the warm-up, “I’m hungry” cry. 

“I got her,” Arizona announces to the dark room. “Sleep.”

“Are you sure?” Callie mumbles groggily, already settling back into her pillow.

“Yep.”

And thus is the general extent of their conversation some days. Other days it’s better; Callie manages a smile or a teasing joke, occasionally even a kiss separate from the muscle memory of ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye’ or ‘goodnight’. 

“Hello, baby girl,” Arizona coos at the four-month-old, scooping her up with practiced ease. “Let’s get you some food, okay?”

She sneaks back out to the living room as Caroline momentarily quiets to whimpers, tiny hands flailing as she nuzzles at her momma’s breast. 

“Mm, still haven’t gotten the memo, huh? _Mami_ ’s got the goodies. Momma is strictly bottle.”

She grabs the bottle and settles onto the couch, half dozing as Caroline suckles hungrily, pausing to burp her every so often. After she’s fed, burped, and changed, the screaming for no apparent reason begins in earnest. Arizona briefly wonders if it’s awful that she half-tunes her out and soothes her by rote, softly singing the themes from whatever Disney movie the older kids happened to be watching last.

“You’re singing _‘ristocats_ ,” Lena interrupts, and Arizona’s eyes pop open with a start.

She was so out of it she didn’t notice the three-year-old make her way down the stairs and appear in front of her.

“Leni, what are you doing up?” Arizona asks.

The toddler, all wild blonde curls and nightgown with a tulle skirt, rubs at her eyes with a shrug.

“Hermanita cries a lot.”

Arizona sighs, adjusting the crying infant in her arms. “Yes, she does.”

“Even when you sing.”

“Yes, baby. Please go back to bed.”

Lena yawns: “Not sleepy.”

“Do you want to sit with your sister and me for a little?”

Her older daughter just nods and scurries up onto the couch, pull-up scratching against her tulle skirt. 

“Caroline, stop crying,” Lena orders, pulling in tight to her momma’s side and poking at the baby’s feet. “Hush, baby.” Then, as an afterthought. “Por favor.” [Please.]

Caroline only pauses long enough to draw in a deep breath and wail louder.

“Momma,” Lena whines, “Make her stop!”

“I can’t, Lena-bug. And I need you not to whine, okay? Big girl voice or back upstairs.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“De nada,” Lena replies instinctively. [You’re welcome.]

“How about you sing to her for a while? I bet she’d like that.”

Lena obediently picks up (and mangles) the chorus to “O’Malley the Alley Cat” (a song that used to make her madre a little teary, but now elicits no response). Her singing of course does nothing to stop Caroline’s screaming and little for Arizona’s headache, but she keeps right on until she’s slumped, asleep, on her momma’s arm.

Caroline finally quiets and drifts off at five til four, and Lena continues to snore beside her (the remnants of a nasty summer cold that gripped both Asa and Lena last week).

Arizona takes a deep breath and fights off exhausted tears. 

She loves them, she does; just the feeling of each curled trustingly into her fills her with awe and adoration. It’s all so overwhelming, though: the dying tiny humans at work, the needy, cranky tiny humans at home, and the wife she feels so distant from even when they sleep side by side for a few scant hours every night.

She blows a breath out and carefully stands, using the burp rag to wipe at Caroline’s damp cheeks. Luckily, once the terror hour is over, the baby sleeps deeply for three to four hours, right when her brother and sister wake to greet the day. She kisses that tiny face, recognizing, even this young, the traces of Calliope in it.

In their room, Callie sleeps on while Arizona tucks the baby into her bassinet. Arizona finds a pacifier and coaxes it into Caroline’s mouth, the little lips latching onto it even in sleep. She stretches out her arms, tired from holding fast to Caroline for over an hour straight, and goes to collect her other baby girl.

She lifts Lena into her arms with a soft groan and can’t help but smile a little as the three-year-old sighs and burrows into her neck, even if she is dead weight in her arms. She deposits Lena into her toddler bed, searching out her pink blankie to make sure it’s close by for when she wakes.

“Sleep tight, baby girl. Love you,” she whispers with a lingering kiss on her forehead.

Now it’s back to her bedroom, no energy to do anything more than strip off her clothes and fall into bed. Her fingers steal across the bed to find Calliope’s as sleep already begins to overtake her. She squeezes and swears she feels Callie squeeze back.

 

***

 

Callie wakes at 7:00, shocked by the time. Arizona must’ve covered Terror Hour. It’s almost time for another feeding, though; she can feel it in her painfully swollen breasts.

Her wife is still asleep, so Callie slips out of bed as quickly as possible, headed to start breakfast. 

Asa and Lena soon join her, already squabbling over who is too close to whom. Asa gives Lena a shove that sends the little blonde flying, knee first, into the island, and Callie’s stomach drops.

“Asa Daniel Robbins-Torres. Step. Now,” she orders with what must be a terrifying mommy-voice, based on the way his eyes widen and he sprints for the timeout step.

Callie drops the milk carton and runs to where Lena is picking herself up. There’s blood on her knee, and Callie kicks into an even higher panic.

“Ay, m’ija, ¿qué te duele, amor?” [Oh, baby, what hurts, love?] she asks, pulling her first into a tight hug, then lifting her onto the counter.

“I’m sorry!” anguished Asa calls from the step.

“Nada, Mami,” [Nothing,] Lena answers quietly, looking up at Callie through long lashed, bright eyes completely dry, but eying her madre warily.

The words do nothing to soothe Callie’s fears, though, because the three-year-old is bleeding and claiming no pain. What if she hit her head? What if she’s one of those kids that can’t feel any pain?

Putting Lena on her hip (because who leaves the baby on the counter?), she retrieves the first aid kit, trying to remind herself that this is one of many skinned knees her second child has suffered and there is no reason for her nausea and racing heart. Lena is _just fine_ , and Arizona will be up soon and tell her she’s crazy and – 

“Can I have a Cinderella bandaid, Mami?” Lena interrupts that runaway train. “Please?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, mi amor. Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?” Callie attempts, steadying most of the shakiness out of her voice and setting Lena back on the counter. She begins to clean out the wound with an alcohol pad, setting the bandaid aside.

“Ouch, Mami!” Lena objects with a whine, and Callie realizes with horror that she was pressing purposefully on the open cut much harder than necessary to test the toddler’s reaction.

At least she can definitely feel pain. The guilt wars with the relief.

“Whoa, hey, guys. What’s going on this morning?” Arizona says as she enters the kitchen, Caroline on her shoulder. 

“Asa pushed me,” Lena tattles, leaning around Callie to see her momma as her madre applies a princess bandaid. 

“I’m sorry!” Asa cries again.

Arizona touches Callie’s shoulder briefly as she comes over to check everything out. Callie flinches away. 

“How are you doing, baby girl?” Arizona asks, moving around Callie to brush some curls out of Lena’s eyes.

“Fine,” Lena answers. 

Arizona nods, barely awake Caroline perched with her cheek pressed to her shoulder, beginning to whimper.

“I’ll trade ya,” Arizona offers her wife.

Callie nods. “Can you?” She gestures to Asa in time out.

“Yep, sure, got it,” Arizona says quickly, placatingly. “You just feed the howler monkey.”

Callie feels Caroline curl insistently against her breast as Arizona kisses Lena and sets her on the ground before moving over to Asa. She settles onto a chair in the living room, hearing the murmurs as Arizona squats down with Asa on the step. 

After a strong talking to, he goes over to the table and gives Lena a hug. Both settle in for cereal, orange juice, and casual conversation.

Callie watches as Arizona goes about her morning routine: pouring coffee, toasting bread, goofing off, however sleepily, with Lena and Asa. Callie wonders how she can act like everything is normal while it feels like everything is spinning out of control around them.

 

***

 

“Get a drink with me,” Arizona begs her oldest friend in Seattle (and Lena’s other godmother) over the phone, only marginally feeling like a terrible person. 

“Okay. When?” Rachel says back warily, eying the clock on the wall. 

“Now. Or, as soon as you can get to a bar,” Arizona answers, sounding so very exhausted. 

“Alright. I can head out now,” Rachel answers, starting to gather her things and wrap up her last few emails for the day. “Should I meet you by the hospital?”

“No!”

“Okay... The place by my office then?”

“Yes, perfect. I’ll head over now and meet you there.”

“Sounds good. And Arizona?”

“Yes?”

“When I get there you’re going to have to explain why you are currently making me feel like your mistress.”

Arizona sighs: “Okay.”

 

***

 

“Shouldn’t you be home with your beautiful wife and three perfect children?” Rachel asks as Arizona drops into the booth across from her.

Arizona’s head falls into her hands, and Rachel immediately waves over a waitress and orders them two beers. 

“Okay, now you have me worried. Where’s Callie? Where are the kids?”

“Callie’s still at work. Lindsey picked the kids up from daycare at four; I don’t mind paying her an extra hour so I can have adult conversation.” 

“So, things are... bad at home?” Rachel asks gently. She kinda hopes that’s not the case; Callie and Arizona make her think there’s still some good old-fashioned _happy families_ in the world, even if she never wants the picket fence and two-point-five (okay, three) kids. 

“I haven’t slept in... well, probably since Calliope went into labor with Caroline.”

“She’s almost four months old.”

“Oh, I know. And my wife, well, sometimes it’s like we’re just passing in the night. We sleep when and where we can, and I can’t remember the last time we had a conversation.” 

“And the kids?”

Arizona sighs, sinking back into the booth. “I love them.”

“Of course.”

“I might kill them.”

Rachel smirks. “You won’t. And if you are going to, give me warning so I can rescue my Lena.”

“Oh, your Lena,” Arizona groans. “Your Lena is having a little trouble adjusting to more competition for everyone’s attention. And Asa, I mean, he’s so smart. _So_ smart. And that’s great, I’m so proud of him, but at five, I gotta say, that’s really annoying. ‘Because I said’ so is apparently no longer an acceptable answer, and I don’t like it.”

“Well, tell you what. I’ll come steal my Lena for the day on Saturday, and give her some undivided attention. How does that sound?”

“Wonderful. Now if I can pawn the screamer off on someone...”

“Caroline?” Rachel grins.

“Neither of the others were this much trouble! She cries _every night_ without fail, and for no good reason. I change her and rock her and feed her and sing to her and nothing.”

“I’d pay money to see you sing to her.”

“My place. 3:00 AM. Bring your checkbook.”

Rachel laughs; she can’t help it. Arizona sighs and takes another big swig of her beer.

“I mean, she’s amazing, of course. And she looks so much like Callie, it’s crazy. But she’s just not a happy baby. And I don’t know what to do about that.”

“You’ve got three kids under six,” Rachel says, trying to calm her down. “Things are gonna be stressful. You always sounded a little crazy every time I talked to you when Asa or Lena was this small. It’s normal.”

“I never purposefully avoided spending time with them before, though.”

“You’re tired; doesn’t make you a bad mom. It means you’re human.”

Arizona makes a face.

“I know, I guess. Something just feels... off.”

“You have a four-month-old! You’re the one that told me newborns are a ton of exhausting work and I shouldn’t expect you to be functional until seven or eight months at least.”

Arizona looks sheepish. “When did I say that?”

“Right after Acer was born. Now, drink your beer, Momma. We’ll discuss news of the world and all sorts of grown up things. Then I’ll ship you on home. It’ll pass, I promise.”

“Yeah?”

Rachel pushes her beer towards her.

“Yeah.”

 

***

 

“Well hey there, baby,” Miranda Bailey coos over little Caroline, tucked in a sling against her madre’s chest. “I’ve heard you’re quite the screamer.”

Callie manages a tired smile as Bailey sits beside them on the bench outside the door to Seattle Grace-Mercy West.

“Torres. You look dead on your feet.”

“Just about.”

“You’ve got no sympathy from me,” Bailey teases. “Not like any of ‘em were _accidents_ for you two. What are you doing out here? Waiting?”

“Yep. Waiting for Arizona and the big kids. It’s warm now, and I thought it would be better to wait out here. You know how many germs are in that cafeteria.”

Bailey nods thoughtfully, though she’s never known Robbins and Torres to be overly concerned about something a few Wet Ones and hand-washings could handle.

“Seriously, though, Torres. You okay?”

Callie wrestles a smile onto her face as she pulls Caroline out of the sling for Miranda to fuss and cuddle over. 

“Sure. Just a lot of kids and a little sleep.”

“Mhmm. Had a surgery with your missus today. I thought she was gonna pass out as soon as she tied off that bowel and had a resident close. There was a nurse waiting to caffeinate her.”

Callie narrows her eyes. “Which nurse?”

Bailey shrugs, focused on the baby. Caroline blinks happily at silly Aunt Miranda.

“Oh, I don’t know. One of the young ones.”

“Huh.”

“Anyway, I hope you two have some time off soon. I remember how crazy I was after Tuck. Of course, he’s killing me now, too; all that fifth grade attitude and ‘cool’.”

Callie manages another half-smile as a solid but small body runs smack into her from behind.

“Hola, Mami,” Asa grins, clambering up onto her lap acrobatically once he notices Bailey has his little sister.

“Oof, be careful, Asa,” she scolds quickly.

Arizona and Lena are close behind, the miniature version perched on her mother’s back, pretending to fly.

“Oh, hello, Dr. Bailey. I will give you one of my daughters if I can steal the other.”

She (carefully) drops Lena onto the bench, and Callie’s hand darts out to steady her.

“But, Momma,” Lena whines. “You said I could have a piggyback.”

“What have I said about that voice?” Arizona says automatically, and Lena pouts and retreats. Bailey passes off Caroline and snuggles Lena into her lap.

“Hello, Care Bear,” Arizona greets. “How was _your_ day? Did you have a good afternoon with Mami? Or did you scream the whole time, my little howler monkey?”

“Half and half,” Callie answers for her, and Arizona nods.

Bailey looks between them. They have yet to do one thing to gross her out with their adorableness, and _that_ is very odd.

“Aunt Miranda,” Asa speaks up. “Where is Little Tuck?”

“Little Tuck would sit on you if he heard you call him Little Tuck, Asa.”

The five-year-old giggles, and Bailey continues: “He’s with his daddy today. But I’ll tell him you say hi.”

“Okay,” Asa says brightly. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Aunt Miranda,” Lena says, demanding attention. “¿Sabes que-?”

“Ingles, Leni,” Asa big-brothers.

“Oh. Did you know that birds lay eggs and their babies come out of them?”

“I did! Isn’t that cool?”

“Mhmm!”

 

***

 

“Hello, Aunt Callie!”

Callie looks up from the lunch she was eating in blissful silent to see the Sloan men, two year old Grey sitting happily on Mark’s shoulders. Her best friend takes one look at her face and says:

“I think you have a date with Baby Blondie in daycare, Grey. Give your godmama a kiss and let’s go!”

Mark bends down comically, and the toddler plants a wet kiss on Callie’s cheek. Callie smiles briefly, just for him, and gives him one back.

“Have fun with my Lena-nena, Baby Grey.”

“I’ll be right back,” Mark says with a firm nod.

And he is.

“Okay. Spill it, Cal.”

“There’s nothing to spill. You, however, have to tell me all about your five weeks of paternity leave, and how it feels to be back.”

Mark has been rather incommunicado since little Susanna Sloan was born and he took the first part of his paternity time. The rest he is saving for when Lexie’s time is up.

So he does spill, briefly, about what a miracle she is, and how she and Care Bear are going to be best of friends and how he hasn’t slept in five weeks, even though she doesn’t cry as much as Grey did as a newborn, and when can they have their first play date, and...

Callie bursts into tears.

“Nothing to spill, huh?”

“I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“You need me to get Robbins?” he asks, testing if this is a wife or a best friend kind of freak out.

His question, though, only makes her cry harder. Mark pauses, moving closer so that she will at least be blocked from the staring of half the cafeteria.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

She manages to shake her head negatively.

“Okay. Is it something with Robbins?”

She shrugs, wiping at her tears uselessly.

“Did you have a fight?”

“No? Yes? I don’t know. We’re not talking, but we’re not _not_ talking.”

Mark nods understandingly, even though he is once again marveling at how any two women can survive in a relationship together. Relationships are complicated enough with one!

“Alright, so you’re having a weird off period. Okay, I mean. That’s normal. You’re adjusting to your new family dynamic.”

“What the hell are you reading?” Callie asks, rubbing at her face with the sleeve of her thermal, tears already slowing.

“Lex’s got me reading all sorts of books since she got pregnant again. Are you okay?”

Callie shakes her head. 

“I don’t think this is what Arizona wants.”

“I know that’s not true,” he counters firmly.

“I think she’s having an affair.”

“Okay, now you’re crazy. Blondie isn’t a cheater, and believe me, I’m the expert.”

“George wasn’t a cheater either. Maybe it’s me.”

“Hey. O’Malley was _weak_ , and there are many things, good and bad, that I could call Arizona, but weak isn’t one of them.”

Callie tries desperately to think back to think back to before, when Arizona looked at her with hunger and adoration. When Asa or Lena would wake up fussy but easily fall back asleep in their momma’s embrace, and Arizona would climb back into bed and pull her close to tell her how much she loved her and their babies.

Before Caroline.

And it’s not her beloved baby girl’s fault, but that pregnancy does seem to be the tipping point. Callie’d been older than before, and while Caroline was ultimately conceived via turkey baster like her brother (saving them the very expensive IVF that created Lena), it took a much longer time with much added stress.

And Arizona was at her side for every second, but now it seems like they’re drifting apart. Maybe three was just too many.

Maybe it’s not enough.

Callie opens her mouth to pour all of that out to her best friend, but all the comes out is:

“I know she’s never leave me, but I feel like we’re falling apart. Like she’s slipping away from me. What if I’m not enough any more?”

“Callie. I don’t think it’s possible for _you_ to not be enough for someone. Especially Robbins. You two are... you’re it.”

“She never wanted this.”

“She didn’t know she did. All you need is sleep, Cal. Everything just looks fuzzy right now.”

“Everyone keeps saying that, but I can’t. I just.... If Caroline is not screaming, Asa is picking on Lena, or Lena is pitching a fit for attention or... Mark, I’m so tired.”

Mark leans forward and plucks her pager from her waistband, pocketing it.

“What? Wait-”

“Third floor on call room. Go. I will cover any emergencies, medical or family, for the next two hours. _Sleep._ I am going to check on you in fifteen minutes, and you better be asleep. I’d march you up there myself, but people already talk about us, and that’s the last thing you need right now.”

He tries for the joke, but it falls flat and he sighs: “Go, Callie.”

She stands unsteadily, and he grabs her tray. 

“Go on. You’re worrying me. You’re clearly not thinking straight.”

Normally she’d chime in: “No, I don’t really do that anymore,” but instead she just looks at him with hazy eyes and whispers:

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, _go_.”

 

***  


She’d usually go see Callie, get a hug and a kiss and a reassuring smile before being sent back to be “great”. But yesterday she made the apparently abhorrent mistake of letting Asa play on the jungle gym in the backyard while she was as far away as _the back porch_ feeding Caroline and losing a rousing game of Go Fish with (cheating) little Lena. This is a mortal sin, it seems (even though he had strict instructions not to do the monkey bars without a spotter) and now Calliope isn’t speaking to her.

So, she’s here. 

“Hi, Dr. Robbins,” one of the younger daycare workers greets her. “Are you looking for a specific one or should I round up the whole brood?”

“Whoever’s not napping,” Arizona manages a smile as the young woman hurries to collect the Robbins-Torres kids. 

Lena-bug is apparently sound asleep, so the young woman brings out Caroline and Asa, her beautiful Callie-clones.

“Dr. Torres left a bottle after she came up and fed Caroline at ten. Do you want me to get it? It’s about that time,” Victoria offers.

“Thanks, that would be great.”

“Hey, Momma,” Asa says easily, looping an arm around her knee. 

She sits at one of the low tables in the quieter corner they’ve been given for a semblance of privacy. She immediately pulls him in for a one armed hug while she holds Caroline, burying her face in the soft skin of Asa’s neck.

“Hey, bubba. What have you done today so far?”

“Colored. And Ally and Katie and me went fishing.”

“Fishing, huh?”

“Yes, ma’am. Soy el pez and Katie too and Ally is the fisherperson. Pescadora.” [I’m the fish...]

Asa has entered a phase where he self-translates new vocabulary words when using them in a sentence. He is _so_ ready for kindergarten in the fall. 

“Well, that’s really cool.  Did you see Mami earlier?”

Asa shrugs. “She came and fed Caroline and then left me with a kiss. Hasta luego, Mami.” [See you later, Mami.]

Arizona grins warmly at his sweetness. “Okay, that’s good.”

Victoria hands off a warm bottle, which Arizona sets on the table briefly so she can hold both children for a few seconds longer, to chase away the memories of the four-year-old that coded on her table this morning. A girl that was once as tiny as Caroline, would never be as big as Asa. That spoke with her briefly this morning about orca whales, Lena’s current obsession, and confounded her Spanish and English, just like her babies do.

“I’m sorry, Doctor, if you don’t have-”

“That one’s mine. I’m her godfather. And that’s my boss. I need to talk to them both.”

“Karev? Let him in, Victoria,” Arizona says tiredly, and the girl complies.

Alex nods his thanks and sits next to her at the tiny table. 

“Hey, Acer,” he says gruffly before turning his attention to Arizona and the baby. “Gove me my godkid.”

“That’s not how we ask nicely, Uncle Alex,” Arizona cracks with a half-smile.

“May I hold my godkid, please?” Alex counters. “And we’re seriously doing this Uncle Alex thing?”

“We seriously are.”

“Hi, Uncle Alex,” Asa chimes in, and Karev rolls his eyes and scruffs a hand over the boy’s buzzed hair.

“Can I hold her?”

“Only if you feed her, too.”

Alex assents, and Arizona does the hand-off, immediately pulling Asa into her lap.

“Sometimes it’s nice,” Arizona says softly, pulling Alex’s gaze away from tiny Caroline’s face.

“Huh?”

“To remember.”

He watches as she once again buries her cheek in Asa’s warm, alive skin, and nods.

“Do you want me to put you on the list?” Arizona continues.

“The list?”

“Of people that can come see my kids. You are her godfather, after all. In case you forgot.”

She sneaked a peek at his phone background earlier this week. It was Caroline in her christening gown. She knows he hasn’t forgotten.

“Oh, uh. If you want.”

“Okay.”

“You doing okay?” Alex asks.

“Oh, it’ll pass. These guys make it so much harder sometimes, being a mom and dealing with sick kids, but they also make it better.”

“I know,” Alex says, dropping his eyes to his happily suckling goddaughter. “I meant, are _you_ okay? You just seem...”

“Tired?” Arizona chuckles mirthlessly. Everyone tells her that.

“More than that.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Barely answers my question.”

Arizona makes a face, but they’re interrupted by Miss Lena wandering out in the outfit she talked her momma into allowing her to wear today.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Arizona greets, moving Asa to one knee and patting the other to offer it to Lena.

“Robbins, is your daughter wearing a tutu?”

“Yes.”

“And socks? That don’t match?”

“Yep.”

“Hi, Uncle Alex,” Lena yawns.

Lena’s hair is a mess from her nap, but her rhinestone-encrusted black t-shirt declares she is a princess, wonderfully complementing her purple tutu and knee socks, one a pale yellow, the other rainbow striped.

“Wow, Lena. You look great,” Alex tells her, managing to sound sincere.

“Gracias, Uncle Alex.” 

Asa slides off Arizona’s lap to go retrieve his latest artwork to show her. Lena settles back sleepily against Arizona’s shoulder.

“What’s up?” Alex demands, sitting Caroline up to burp her, eying her warily to see if she’s going to spit up on him. She has before, at her christening party.

“Like I said, Alex. It’ll pass. All of it. I’ll be fine.”

Her use of his first name (without an “Uncle” in front of it) makes him back off his interrogation.

“Okay, but I’m-”

She looks up from playing adoringly with Lena’s curls and her eyes stay just as soft:

“I know, Karev, and thanks. You’re helping already.”

 

***

 

Callie wakes at one in the morning, disoriented. Arizona lies snoring dorkily beside her, though, and Caroline sleeps, totally content after the 11:45 feeding her mami gave her. So there’s no reason for her to have jolted from her sleep.

Maybe she heard something? She pads around the house checking locks and peeking on her older two children. The doors are all locked, and her two miracles sleep as soundly as the third. As she pours herself some water and resolves to just _go back to sleep_ , the memory of her dream returns.

It’s the same one that had plagued her in her Mark-mandated on-call room nap, Arizona slipping away, wordless, face emotionless, and Callie frozen in her spot, unable to reach out to her. It sends her immediately back to her bedroom.

Arizona has shifted towards Callie’s empty spot, brows knit at the emptiness, but she appears to still be deep in slumber. Most importantly, she’s still _there_ , and Callie’s knees buckle in relief. She slides into bed, wrapping her arms around her wife, tightly. Arizona fidgets and huffs but falls back into sleep, relaxing at the feel of Callie’s lips at her collar bone and her arms around her waist.

Maybe when they wake up tomorrow, the distance will be back, literally and figuratively, but for now Arizona curls instinctively around her, the way she did before. So Callie will just hold on and beg, her voice barely even a whisper:

“Please. Don’t leave me.”

 

***


End file.
